BY FRANCES ROBLES
WASHINGTON -- Sitting in a plane on his way to see his father,
Elian Gonzalez had a few
questions for the INS agents who snatched him Saturday at
the brink of dawn: ``Where's my
uncle? Am I ever going to see my cousin Mari again?''
He heard answers that didn't soothe him and wept. A nap and a
few Gameboy sessions later,
Elian was ready to see his papa.
``Elian looked dazed, looked scared, looked confused,'' Dr. Gustavo
Cadavid, an Immigration
and Naturalization psychiatrist who escorted the boy on the flight
that brought him to his father's
arms, said Monday.
``He was just scared.''
Interviews with the two doctors on the flight from South Florida
to Maryland show Elian
was at first befuddled, suffering from old psychological wounds
and new ones, but still
willing to make friends with strangers. He displayed deep anguish
for the loss of his mother,
affection for his new family and delight at the first sight of
his father, Juan Miguel.
Cadavid, a Krome Detention Center psychiatrist, first encountered
Elian at Homestead
Air Force Base. The child, discovered Thanksgiving Day clinging
to an inner tube, was
now clinging to Betty Mills, the bilingual INS agent who participated
in the Saturday
morning raid on the Gonzalez family's Little Havana home.
First he got a checkup from Dr. Carlos Quiñones, the new
director of medical health
service at Krome and a Puerto Rican doctor with 20 years of Air
Force and Coast
Guard experience.
HE WAS FRIENDLY
``He didn't have a scrape,'' said Quiñones, who said the
boy was not administered
any medication or any tranquilizers. ``He was so friendly.''
Once deemed fit, Elian boarded a prisoner transport plane with
two U.S. marshals,
two INS agents and the two doctors.
``He wasn't saying anything,'' Cadavid said. ``But as we took
off, he did ask,
`Where am I going.' ''
They told him he was headed to Washington to see his father. When
he wanted
to know whether he would see his great-uncle, Lazaro Gonzalez,
and his cousin
Marisleysis Gonzalez, he got a hazy response.
``It depends on you and your dad,'' Cadavid told him.
Elian didn't scream, didn't flail his arms around but gazed out
the window while
tears rolled down his face.
He dropped his head to Mills' lap and fell asleep.
At a refueling stop in Atlanta, he decided against speaking to
his father by
telephone.
He woke up looking refreshed and decided to talk to his father after all.
``There were two faces: The first was confused,'' Quiñones
said. ``When he woke
up, he was a different boy. He was very friendly, happy. Everything
was fine.''
The doctor said Elian played and colored and told the federal
agents how he
wanted to be a pilot when he grows up.
As they were landing, Cadavid made a slip of the tongue that revealed
the sorrow
that Elian hid inside.
SLIP OF THE TONGUE
``Now, we're going to see your father, little brother and mother,''
a tongue-twisted
Cadavid said -- his mind having blocked out the Spanish word
for stepmother.
Elian's mom died five months ago in the very wreck that resulted
in the
international custody battle.
``The smile was gone,'' said Cadavid, who is Colombian American.
``When I said
`mama' it was just sadness -- sadness you can't erase.''
After correcting himself, Cadavid tried cheering him by telling
him how close they
were to seeing Juan Miguel. Elian pressed his face to the window
but Daddy
didn't appear.
``Boy, oh boy, all of a sudden there was a smile, joy,'' Cadavid
said. He starts
waving and waving, but the father didn't see him.''
Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in the cabin: ``Elian!''
``Elian jumps. The boy runs to his father. The father runs to
his son,'' Cadavid
said. ``You could hear a pin drop. Everybody was choking up.
The father said `I
thought I was never going to see you again.' ''
Juan Miguel thanked the federal employees over and over as he
hugged his silent
boy. ``A very sweet moment,'' Quiñones said.
An hour later, the doctors visited again, this time at the Andrews
Air Force Base
apartment, where Elian was running around showing off his new
Batman T-shirt
and baby brother.
``It was smiles all over the place,'' Cadavid said.
Copyright 2000 Miami Herald